For You I'd Wait A Lifetime
by Miranda le Ginger
Summary: Hawke is tired of waiting on Isabela to come back. Will everyone's favorite pirate prove the Champion wrong, or will her philandering, non-commitment oriented ways ruin something beautiful?


A/N: Well, this oneshot completely ran away from me. About 3,000 words in, it decided to turn in a completely different direction than I planned; it was **only** supposed to be 3,000 words…*9,000 words later* However, the endgame was the same, just took a little detour to get there. Also, due to the length I cut it shorter than I anticipated. If you would like a second chapter to this depicting their companion's reaction to the ending, tell me and there is a high probability of me writing at least one more chapter. As always, thank you for reading/reviewing/favoriting; you guys rock.

Disclaimer: Do I own Dragon Age? Nope. Do I want to own Dragon Age? Of course. Would Dragon Age be a kid friendly rating if I did? Oh hell no. DA is owned by the wonderful people at Bioware, and Electronic Arts. Isabela and Hawke are also not my creation; neither are the faithful companions who have to deal with them. All kudos for the wonder that is Dragon Age go to those amazing minds stated above; I am merely a peon.

"_Hi, I'm Isabela. A pirate Captain…err, well, WAS a captain.*looks to her right* Oops, gotta get this. *kicks outwards* *a man falls with a loud groan and crash* You're easy on the eyes, aren't you?"_

"_Mmm, sweet thing, did you miss me? …I'll take that as a yes."_

"_Hehehe, funny story actually….you see, that relic? The relic the Qunari want so bad and is kinda the reason they are mooching off Kirkwall? Weeeell, I might, maybe, sort of know where it is…perhaps."_

"_I'm sorry, Hawke. But I cannot remain here any longer. My place is at sea…it's my home. And…I will only break your heart. You…weren't supposed to fall in love with me. That was the deal…we're in too deep. Goodbye, Hawke. Thank you for…standing by me when no other would."_

Hawke shot up in her luxurious bed, sweat beading on her body from her dream recollection. A slim, tanned hand reached up to run through tousled raven hair; bright blue eyes closed as a small tear coursed down the beautiful face. It was times like this, in the dark and alone, that Claire Hawke allowed herself to be vulnerable. The famed Champion of Kirkwall had traveled through the Fade and back performing fantastical and good-hearted deeds. Her strength and prowess in battle had cemented her in the minds of the people of Kirkwall. But, for all her accolades alongside her companions and blade, she was a lonely woman. Her parents and siblings were all dead now, leaving her with no family to speak of. Isabela…

Claire shook her head, rubbing tired eyes. It would do her no good to dwell on the pirate she had formerly known. The two had been close once upon a time; their "dalliance" had been one of the best parts of Claire's day. Hawke had quickly fallen deeper for the pirate, losing her heart in addition to her judgment when they were together. Indeed, she had given her maidenhood to the duelist. While Isabela was quite happy to take her virginity, she obviously was not too keen on commandeering the warrior's heart. After Claire risked life and limb for her in a duel against the Arishok, Isabela had left her with only an awkward, half-hearted speech that tore Claire's heart into pieces. Liquid cinnamon eyes never once met hers during that time, and when she walked away, she never looked back.

It had been three torturously long years since that fateful moment. Hawke had done her absolute best to let go of the sensuous woman, becoming a familiar customer in the Blooming Rose. Indeed, she had her own room set up in there now, just for her. Apparently, being famous and a champion to boot had its perks.

The tall warrior threw the covers off her body, escaping the warm cocoon of the silken sheets. She rarely got out of bed before the sun was fully up, but she knew there was no way sleep would come back. Padded feet carried her over to the crimson dresser against the wall, containing her clean clothes. Hawke stripped herself of the modest cloth nightgown that cascaded passed her thighs. Calloused fingers picked up a tunic that was royal blue in color. A small smile tweaked her lips as she remembered a certain someone's appreciative gaze sliding along her body when dressed in the tunic.

_"Damn Hawke…*low whistle* Blue is definitely your color. Brings out your eyes. But, you wanna know what would look even better with the tunic? *A lifted eyebrow greets the question alongside a curious gaze* Being on the floor."_

The smile vanished as quickly as it appeared. Claire donned the clothes and heading towards the door, eager to use food as a coping mechanism. Her hand slid smoothly down the railing as the expensive Antivan boots she wore made faint, muffled noises he farther down she went. Bodahn met her at the bottom, a big grin on his face behind the scraggly beard. Sandal stood off to the side, joy suffusing his young face. Intelligent eyes stared at her in a seemingly stupid manner; a façade that fooled many. "Hullo there, Sirah Hawke. Wonderful morning today, right?" Claire nodded her head, unsurprised at seeing the two dwarves standing so bright and chipper. Somehow they always knew when Hawke was up, no matter the time.

When Claire was finally level with him, Bodahn gestured towards the vast dining room. "What would you like to eat today, messir? We have a wide array of cheeses and fruits for you, and meats as well, if you choose." Claire was content to just walk silently beside the dwarf, eyeing him with amusement as his short arms wildly swung around as he talked animatedly. Hawke finally settled on something, and Bodahn was quick to prepare the warrior a meal. As she chewed her food, Hawke thought about the day's agenda. The Champion had been asked, or rather, _begged_, to clear out a group of bandits that were skulking around Wounded Coast. Hawke being Hawke, she agreed to clear out all the bandits, and anything else unfriendly to boot. The whole group was going out to help; Aveline was able to fit the jaunt into her busy schedule, and Sebastian, when he mentioned disposing of the scalawags, was given the go-ahead. The rest…well, they really had nothing better to do.

Claire swallowed the last morsel in her mouth and downed it with a cup of scalding tea. Wiping her mouth on the back of a hand, she stood to her full height and crossed the room into the main hall. Gathering up her sword and shield from beside the note desk, the swordswoman turned her head slightly to look at Bodahn. "Thank you for the marvelous breakfast as always, Bodahn. I am off to clear out the Wounded Coast; I will not be here for awhile yet." Bodahn nodded thoughtfully, his clear gray eyes swirling. "Alright Hawke; take care of yourself out there. Sandal and I will clear up the dishes, and then I think we will walk down to the market, see what's for sale, eh boy?"

Sandal grinned wide at Hawke, his soul shining out through electric blues. "Enchantment!" Bodahn turned back to Hawke. "Well that takes care of that." A broad hand turned the gilded handle on the front door, holding it open for the master of the house. Claire dipped her head in thanks, leaving the wondrous piece of her heritage and venturing off to find her comrades. Busy day, indeed.

"Ahhhh! Watch where you shoot that thing!" Fenris shouted at Anders, voice cross. "Hey, stop complaining. I just saved your hide from that bandit. Or would you rather be a decoration for some weird elf collector?" Hawke parried a blow with her shield, the family crest of Amell glinting in the brilliance of the sun. A quick upstroke of her blade sent the severed head of her attacker up and over, descending down a couple of feet away. "Will you two knock it off? We happen to be otherwise engaged at the moment, or did you forget the guys with pointy things and bad hygiene?" Murmured grunts greeted her sarcastic admonishment as the two furiously worked together to stave off the cutthroats.

Merrill stood off to the right of the Ferelden native, a veritable mass of plant roots wrapping themselves around her thin thighs. Her normally emerald green eyes glowed with magic, using the power of nature to make the bandits bow. Aveline charged forward, strong and resilient as a tree trunk. The Guard Captain swung her sword with ferocity, roaring her challenge at the fools that dare compromise the safety of her home. Claire ran passed Sebastian who was holding his own quite well; archery, when used in the right conditions, really paid off. Hawke ducked as a massive brute wielding a cudgel attempted to whack her head off. Instead, only a couple of her short raven strands were harmed. As she came up, she slashed his chest, cutting a swath up to his broad shoulder. He howled in pain, only to be silence a moment later with the tip of a blade. "Nice swing, Hawke!" Claire turned around, watching Varric put a bolt between another bandit's eyes. "That's five for me. How many do you have, Hawke?"

Hawke smirked. "More than you, apparently." Varric swore lightly under his breath, eyes narrowing in challenge. "Okay then oh master of blades, let's make a wager. Whoever gets the most kills wins a flagon of the best ale in Kirkwall; not the Hanged Man swill." Hawke's smirk brightened, blissfully looking forward to the sweet liquid that would keep her wandering thoughts at night at bay. She always slept soundly when liquored; too bad the Hanged Man hogwash only made the dreams worse. "You're on, Tethras. Get that pocket ready to filter some coin." As the two companions set to it, reveling in the cacophony of battle surrounding them, Hawke let her mind relax for the first time since the morning. Battles and alcohol; maybe her missing pirate would not plague her for the rest of the day. Maybe things were looking up.

Meanwhile, back in Kirkwall, a ship no bigger than a schooner really, came washing in with the water, docking for the night. As soon as the plank was safely secured on the dock, a weathered leather boot gingerly planted on the surface. After testing the weight and nodding the seal of approval, the pirate put her entire weight on the board; walking across she could feel the hungry eyes burning her backside. With her usual cocky gait plus an extra 'oomph' in the hips, the saucy pirate strode across the wood, turning back and blowing a kiss to the captain. He grinned dopily whilst his men glared balefully at the lucky prick who had managed to bed the fiery Rivaini. The women of Rivain were known for their sauciness, and being wildcats between the sheets. But, Isabela had only allowed the captain a tumble on the dirty mass he called sheets. Really, it had made her skin crawl and a little bit of bile to rise in her throat as he touched her. But, she had needed a safe transport and the man was willing to give that, and more, to her. Too bad he couldn't take returns.

As she stepped onto land that wasn't rocking with the waves and sniffed the air roiling with filth and impurities, a small smirk graced her mocha lips. Ahh, she had missed Kirkwall, despite her judgment to the contrary three years earlier. Sailing the seas had been wonderful, and many nights were spent gazing at the stars and drinking with eligible bed partners…with whom she had quickly acquainted herself with later. But if she was being totally honest (wow, that kind of burned coming out of her lips), she missed her friends. Varric, with his macho tendencies and unbelievable stories derived from his amazingly conning mind, Merrill with her adorable impersonation of a kitten, Aveline and those gigantic things she called hands, and the others. But, she missed Hawke most of all. God, all these mushy feelings were going to cause her to light up on fire. But…the pirate could not help it. No matter how many she had bedded, and Maker knows many had lain between the sheets with her, not one of them compared to the complexity of Hawke.

The woman was a walking contradiction. She carried herself with the confidence and power of a man, but still flowed with a gracefulness only apparent to her female heritage. The warrior was flawless in battle, dancing around enemies with perfect poise and precision. The scar on her left cheek lent itself to the fearless image, but everyone who knew Claire Hawke knew the woman had a heart of pure gold. Not like the kind used in her ears, or that she used in bars in order to pay alcohol…maybe she should not think about that right now. Her feet carried her to the Amell mansion, a place she knew like the back of her hand even though years had passed since she last entered the halls. Isabela's sharp eyes took in the inquisitive, curious looks thrown her way. Huh, so she was not completely forgotten. A corner turn later and she was finally there, right in front of the place she came to think of as home. A true smile bloomed on her exotic features. She could not wait to see Hawke's face when those brilliant blues laid on her.

While a certain wayward pirate had coaxed her way into the mansion via the resident dwarves' stomachs, Hawke and the gang had slain every bandit in the Wounded Coast area and were now celebrating in the Hanged Man. The dark-haired Champion was happily guzzling from the bottle of fine ale that Varric had so graciously lost in the bet. (Hawke had won spectacularly by one and a half kills; apparently, pushing a bandit off a cliff does not count. Yeah, she did not agree with Varric's logic but hey, free booze!) Aveline and Fenris watched the heroic woman put away the ale, surprised at her enthusiasm. Three years ago, Hawke could not stand any kind of alcohol and stayed away from the Hanged Man unless business dictated she enter the seedy establishment. However, when that relic-stealing harpy (Aveline's words) had abandoned the group and broken her heart, Claire had taken to drinking away her misery. Her tolerance was through the roof.

Aveline did not take her eyes off the warrior. "Well, I guess Hawke is having fun winding down. Varric, do we have any other business to take care of tomorrow? I have…plans I must attend to." Varric smiled slyly, leaning forward on the table. "Do these…plans of your happen to include a certain guardsmen in your patrol?" A light pink dusted the auburn-haired Captain's cheeks. Before she could deny vehemently, a more than tipsy Hawke burst into drunken giggles. "Hehehe, Aveline sure does like her Donnic! Bet she would just love him to patrol her-"Aveline gasped, scandalized. "Hawke! Don't say that or I swear I will-"Merrill turned her big green eyes on Varric. "Donnic and Aveline are going on patrol together? How wonderful! Maybe they will avoid danger and have…what do you humans say? Smooth sailing?" More laughter from the warrior. "Oh yeah, n-no choppy waves where they are headed! The real test is when the rudder-"A hand clamped over the mouth. The Guard Captain was leveling a glare at the woman, who was still giggling. A moment later she felt a wet tongue lick her hand. "Eww! Hawke! Don't lick me! Maker but you are a handful when you're inebriated."

The sheer hilarity of Ander's expression causes Fenris to let loose a full-bodied belt of laughter. The rest looked on in awe at having seen the normally brooding elf smile, let alone laugh with tears in his eyes. When he noticed the gaping jaws, his mouth clicked shut with an audible snap. A faint blush settled on his cheeks. "What? It was…amusing." The alcohol-ridden Amell descendent smiled sloppily at the embarrassed elf. "Awww, how adorable! You really can laugh! I thought you were born without the ability." She received a glare and a huff in response. The warrior reached for her glass only to have it snatched away by the guard captain. "Oh no Champion, I think you have had enough for one night. Any more of this and you might just combust." Varric rested his head on his hands, the knuckles pressing into his broad jaw. "It still floors me every time I see her. She used to never take even a drop of alcohol. At least, not until…." A somber silence fell across the table. Everyone was aware of what Varric was referring to. When Isabela had left three years ago, Hawke had invariably changed. They had all witnessed the covert touches, the longing gazes. Claire was hopelessly in love with the pirate, and her departure had hit the warrior hard.

"I wonder, do you think Isabela is all right? I guess she would be, being a pirate and all. She is probably with one of her friends she used to always go visit. Maybe she will introduce us to one of them one of these days!" Anders shot a warning glance at the lithe elf, hoping she would not mention the name farther. But the damage was already done. The innocent elf had unknowingly broken through the haze that surrounded Hawke's formally blissfully unaware mind. At the mention of her unrequited love, the normally stoic warrior broke down into tears. Alarmed, Aveline frantically waved her arms around Hawke, trying desperately to figure out what to do for the warrior that would count as consoling. Pats on the back counted, right? Nope, no they don't. Merrill leapt to her feet, almost tripping over herself to get to Hawke. She cradled the strong hero's head against her modest chest, rocking her back and forth while whispering words in the elven tongue. All the while, the sobbing woman spoke in broken words. "…'Bela…miss you so much…why'd you have to leave...not good enough, not good…"

The rest of the companions eyed Hawke with concern and shared pain at the predicament. They were surprised she had not broken down sooner. Aveline looked around. The other patrons had given up with their surreptitious glances and had taken to staring unabashedly at the broken champion. Aveline turned back towards Merrill and the drunken hero. "We need to get her out of here. She needs to sleep this off and hopefully in the morning the entirety of Kirkwall won't know about this." The table stood up, blocking their leader from view. The ginger-haired captain placed an arm around Hawke's waist, cradling the woman to her side. The woman sagged against the stalwart strength of her friend, confident that no harm would come to her in her vulnerable state. No matter what kind of crazy situations she found herself in, she could always count on her friends.

Half an hour later, the troupe had gathered themselves around the Amell mansion. No doubt the dwarves would be long asleep at the late hour. Hawke gently disentangled herself from the broad arm, stumbling toward the heavy oaken door bearing the crest of the Amells. "Thank you for escorting me home. I know I kind of made an ass of myself…I am sorry if I ruined your night." Sebastian stepped in, offering up a charming smile that reached his compassionate blue eyes. "Think nothing of it, Hawke. Despite the circumstances, I had a good time. We should definitely do this again after a mission. Sleep well, Champion." With a bow, the handsome man walked off in the direction of the inn he was staying in for the time being. Anders inclined his head as well. "I agree, I needed to relax. You…take care of yourself Hawke. If you ever have need of an ear…well, you know where I live." Claire smiled tremulously at the older mage, watching with hooded eyes as he walked away. Fenris was next, awkwardly running a hand through his white hair. The warrior looked down, ashamed at the joke she had cracked. "Fenris, I-" The elf cut her off. "It is alright, Hawke. I know you were not yourself. No harm, no foul, right?" Claire nodded. "Sleep well Hawke. I shall see you soon." Now only Aveline, Merrill and Varric were left. "That was pretty good ale, wasn't it? I will have to get us some more of it for sure. You going to be okay tonight?" The woman shook her head in the affirmative. "Yes, I have Bodahn and Sandal here in case I need them." Merrill ran up to her raven-haired friend, throwing her arms around the muscular body. "Oh Hawke, I am so, so sorry about mentioning…you-know-who! I swear by the Creators I did not mean to hurt you!" The cool air from the short jaunt had sobered Hawk up a bit, but her motor skills were still lacking complete control. She leaned heavily against the stone wall, clutching Merrill to her and basking in the warmth of another person. Her lips brushed the pale forehead. "No apologies are needed, Merrill. I know you meant no ill will; do not feel bad." Ma serannas, my heart is lighter now. Would you like me to stay here with you tonight?"

Hawke smiled gently at the elf. Although her heart was suitably taken by Isabela, sometimes she wished Merrill had stolen her heart instead. The little elf was so sweet and kind, possessing a heart of gold despite what others might think about her use of blood magic. Though Claire had never liked blood mages, Merrill had opened her eyes. She now realized that not all blood mages were power-hungry psychopaths hell-bent on the destruction of templars. Though her actions were a tad bit misguided and laced with naivety, her intentions were of the purest kind. "No no, go ahead and go home, Merrill. Thank you for the offer but I will be alright. I have held on for three years; what's one more, eh?" She squeezed the Dalish elf once more, breathing in the natural scent of Nature the woman in her arms exuded. " Dareth shiral, you two. Be safe tonight. I have not heard anymore rumblings of thieves and criminals at night, but you never know in Lowtown. Varric, would you mind escorting Merrill home, please?" The masculine dwarf nodded, holding Bianca up on his shoulder. "Of course I will escort her; it is on the way to the Hanged Man anyway. Come along, Daisy; less chance of running into thugs. Wouldn't want to sully the ground with tainted blood now, would we?" He winked at the elf, smirking as she laughed daintily at the comment. Aveline and Hawke shared smiles. It was cute just how much Varric cared for the Dalish elf. Then again, Merrill instilled a protective mode into the entire group. Even Fenris could not help but try and shield her on missions, even though he was no fan of mages.

Varric and Merrill trudged off, the innocent elf waving at the two older females. Hawke watched the pair trudge off, listening to their voices echo loudly around the courtyard. Bright blue eyes did not look away, not until they rounded a corner and were no longer visible. Aveline cleared her throat loudly. Hawke slowly turned to face her, the weariness she felt plain on her features. "That was some get together, wasn't it?" Hawke bowed her head. "If you mean to say it was horrible because I got drunk and acted a fool, then yes, it was something." A firm hand on her shoulder caused the contrite woman to look into the compassionate orbs of her trusted friend. "Did you act foolishly? Yes, to a degree. You know me Hawke; I do not sugarcoat things. But, do I and the others understand _why _you acted as you did? Yes, we do." Aveline let go of the shoulder, letting her weight rest upon the stone wall. "Despite how I come across, I do know how it feels to be in love. I love Donnic, and I would trade him for nothing in the world, but….Wesley was, and is, my first. He will always be with me, even though Donnic has my hand now. You know, sometimes I wonder…what might have become of us had the Blight not occurred when it did? If not for the Blight, Wesley and I would not have escaped the grounds of Ostagar, fleeing for our lives. I would be with him still, perhaps heavy with his child. Kirkwall would never have touched my eyes, and I would never have felt Donnic's arms around me so. Maybe I would have become a templar like Wes. Or, maybe I would have given up the sword for a peaceful life instead. Who knows?"

Hawke turned wistful eyes away, looking into a future that might have been, and now never would. "We would have never left Lothering…my family would have stayed right there, in that little cottage. I would visit Father's grave everyday; bring him beautiful flowers to hang on the plank of wood marking his burial, and read him passages from his favorite books. Carver would have grown big and strong, a soldier of the finest caliber. Maturity would come with age, and a beautiful maiden would lie on his arm, with children to bear the Hawke name. Bethany…she would never have ventured into the Deep Roads and would not become a Warden; she would stay young and innocent and marry an eligible bachelor in the neighborhood, or a tall, strapping knight visiting from Redcliffe. And mother…she would have been sad about father, but she would have been alive and well. And…I…I would have continued training with a blade, possibly traveling to Redcliffe to enlist as a knight. Or, mayhaps I would have settled down with a lady in the vicinity, lived off the land with a spade instead of a blade. The Hero of Ferelden would have lived as a normal person, ruling the House of Cousland alongside her brother. Instead, we lost many good people and many more had to flee.

Hawke turned towards Aveline, a shadow crossing her face. "You know, it's funny; I do not even consider myself a Ferelden any longer. For the first couple of years that is all I saw myself. I was a native Ferelden thrust into the midst of strangers, prey waiting to be feasted upon. But, now…now I am of Kirkwall. This is my home, and I no longer crave to go back to the land of my birth. Does that make me a traitor, a bad person?" Aveline hastened to reassure the downtrodden woman. "No, it doesn't make you a traitor. I myself feel the same way, and I loved Ferelden with every fiber of my being. It has been too long since I have been there; the places muck up in my mind, distorting into shapeless, bland images. I recall few things about the place, and even if I wanted to…I couldn't. If I stepped foot there again, all the pain from Wesley and the Blight would come swooping back. No, I have a life here in Kirkwall now. These people need me more than Ferelden; leave the protecting to King Alistair and his followers."

Hawke soberly looked forward, the alcohol no longer numbing the sorrows she had originally drunk away. "Still…if the Blight never happened, I wonder if I would be…happier? Content, maybe? After Carver's death and Bethany forced into the Grey Wardens, life was rather…dull. Mother was different, all the light gone from her eyes. I did not see that light again until she…passed. Now I am well and truly alone, with no family to speak of. And the person with whom my heart belongs, and who has the power to unlock my happiness…has disappeared, gone for three whole years. To think of all the people I could have given my heart to, it would be a pirate wench with commitment issues." Aveline straightened up at the bitterness in Hawke's words. "Hawke, I know you are in pain. Everyone knew just how much you cared for Isabela. Would I have ever thought it would work, knowing her as I did? Honestly, no. I would have believed it only if Mabari hounds could fly. But do I think she abandoned you on with the intention of hurting you? No, I don't." "Aveline, I appreciate your faith, but when she left she told me it was because I had broken our agreement; I fell in love, which was against the rules from the start. I knew when I started sleeping with her that the ramifications of deeper feelings would terminate the partnership. I pushed her to leave and she had no qualms of doing it."

"Hawke, listen to me for a moment. I know this does not ease the ache you feel right now, nor will it really console you. But, I do believe 'Bela loved you in her own way. The way she looked at you, like you were the most interesting thing on the planet…it was not like her other trysts and distractions. She was different with you. You connected on a deeper level, one none of us could fathom. You have to understand, Isabela has never really experienced true love. She has briefly tasted the forbidden fruit, but has not truly delved into it yet. For her, eating fruit that has already been nibbled upon is easier than catching fresh fruit ripe for the picking. With you she saw the depth of your devotion and was scared at what she felt. I think she felt like she was not good enough for your affections; impure, if you will. So she did the only thing she could think of the spare you both the agony; she left. Will Isabela ever come back? I unfortunately do not have the answer to that. But I do think you were good for her. You made the good inside her come out. I know I did not come across as it, but I supported you two from the beginning. I hoped yours would be the fairytale ending to the story; the charismatic, dashing knight makes the spoiled maiden fall in love, changing her twisted heart."

Claire let the words sink in. Aveline was right; the words did not lessen the pain, but it did help somewhat. It made sense as well. Isabela tried to put up an unaffected front all the time, but it just never quite worked. In certain moments her real self would bleed through the façade she had erected, letting the world see how caring the pirate could truly be. The woman went through more partners than training knights with their wooden swords, but deep down, she felt more than most others. You just had to dig really, really deep. The problem was, Hawke did not know if she had it in her to fight any longer. "I understand what you're saying, Aveline. But, it has been years since she last walked the streets of Kirkwall. I-I cannot keep waiting, keep feeling this ache in my chest. It is slowly killing me; draining my sanity. I love Isabela more than I have ever loved another soul; but…I cannot any longer." The guard captain leveled a sympathetic look at the defeated leader of their little troupe. "I know you told Merrill you were fine, but…do you really wish to spend the night alone? I know Bodahn and Sandal are in there, but I can stay if you would rather talk. Or, I provide a shoulder to lean on. I have heard they are pretty good, if hard."

A short bark of laughter escaped the bright-eyed Amell descendent. "Honestly? I loathe the idea of sleeping alone in my bed tonight. After mother…died, things have not been the same here. But, you have Donnic to think about. He needs his fiancée, and even with you here it will not be the same. Until my heart decides to get over Isabela, I will continue to hurt. But, thank you for being here with me now. You have been a true friend for years. I just want you to know I appreciate you and your friendship. I…I don't know what I would do without you or the others." Aveline tried to surreptitiously wipe her suddenly watery eyes, gruffly clearing her voice immediately after. "I-you too, Hawke. You are absolutely sure you want to be here alone?" "I will be fine. You go home and tell Donnic I said hello. Oh, and congratulate him for making shift leader. He definitely deserves it." Aveline nodded, moving in to pull Hawke into a semi-awkward hug. The older woman kept her hands on Hawke's shoulders, staring seriously at her. "You take care, all right? I will be at the Viscount's Keep whenever you need me. You can call on me at any time, whether for a mission or purely personal reasons. Never hesitate to talk, okay?" Claire affirmed the question, and Aveline pulled back. "Good night Hawke; may your mind be at ease." With that, the tough fighter walked off, her armor making clinking noises. Hawke watched her flame-haired companion, even until she could no longer see her. Hawke let her forehead rest against the cold stone, waking her up even more than the conversation had. Taking a shaky breath, she steeled herself and opened the door. She paused, eyeing the Amell insignia that adorned the middle of the expensive oak. Averting her gaze with a sad sigh, she closed the door behind her with the sound of finality ringing in her ears.

Hawke shut the door gently behind her, blue orbs taking in the dimly lit exterior. The fireplace was alight, warmth exuding from the finely crafted spot. The warrior swept into the room, standing in front of the roaring fire. While she warmed her fingers, she looked around the room. It looked like Sandal had enchanted some more items; with her permission, he had started a little business, enchanting runes and weapons for a fee. It made him happy, and Bodahn appreciated the extra coin. Hawke turned her attention to the writing desk. She meandered over to the sturdy object, moving slower than usual due to the after-effects of the ale. A gauntlet covered palm slapped onto the desk, not even making it sway. Quickly, she scanned for any new papers lying amidst the clutter of thank you missives and pleas for help that adorned what she fondly termed her "bread and butter provider." Keen eyes picked up one new letter addressed to her from someone named Mayrn Toleson. The name did not ping her recognition sensor, and she figured it was probably a new mission. But as she read the words, she realized she was wrong.

Dear Champion,

Hullo there, Champion Hawke. I know you don't know me, and probably would never really care to. My kind is not bred like you; my family is neither heroics nor possessing of riches, material or coin. No, you wouldn't have known me, even though you are always down here in the slums fighting the scum that filter and clog the streets. Y'know, I have seen you before. I had heard tales of your person before; I mean, who hasn't? Talk of your beauty and strength preceded you, but it was nothing to what I observed one day as you were walkin' passed. You walked with confidence in your step, unafraid of those who might be in your way. Here in the slums, we don't see that, only those pretendin' to be something they aren't. But you…you are the real deal.

Bet you're wonderin' why I wrote you, besides the compliments, huh? Champion, I know you probably get more thank-you letters than you care to open let alone read, but I figured I'd send one myself so's I can get this off my chest. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your efforts these past years have really cleaned up this mess that has been walkin' the streets, makin' it safe and easy for my boy and me. Nobody really cared to help before; we slum folk are the lowest of the low; nobody deems us important enough to waste men and time. At least not until you and your guard captain friend. Can you thank her for me too? It ain't just me that is grateful neither; all of us here feel blessed to have our very own guardian angel lookin' out for us. I know you have been feelin' rough the last couple of years, on account of your mom and all. I know you have your friends to lean on….but…I just want you to know, if you ever feel down and out, just remember: all of us here in the slums, and all the people whose lives you have touched, consider you as family. Take it for what you will, Ser Hawke. Blessed be, Hawke. I hope you get everything you wish for; no other woman around is as good or deservin' of it as you.

-Mayrn Toleson

Hawke just stared at the page blankly, a tear rolling down her cheek and drowning itself in the depths of her tunic. She took a deep breath, exhaling it shakily as she brushed the wetness from her face with a deft finger. It was true that she received many letters of thanks and praise in addition to the mission requests. But, few letters were as heartfelt and moving as this. It was simple and the wording crude and blunt; befitting the station the woman Mayrn was in. But few ever mentioned her mother's death, and no one had ever extended the invitation for family. The familiarity even amidst the detachment her elevated status forced her into shook her to her core. Hawke had walked with men in poor situations, and even drank ale with them. But to be considered family with a group of strangers because they respected her so due to her actions….it made her feel like what she was doing truly meant something. The tightness in her chest and throat intensified, and the eldest Hawke had to choke back a sob, gripping her mouth to keep the sound from escaping and disturbing the dwarves resting in her home.

Hawke dropped the letter carefully, heading towards the stairs. Right now, sleep seemed like the only good thing to do. Maybe this weariness would depart. Her footsteps echoed in the high-ceilinged room, and her shadow flickered against the walls. Her hand clutched the railing until her hands grew white, allowing her weight to rest heavily alongside the dark wood. As her right foot hit the landing, her eyes immediately strayed to the blank door to the far left. _Leandra's room_. She had not been able to bring herself to go into the room, not since her mother died. An indescribable sadness hung over her head, stealing the breath from her lungs. She tightened her hands into fists, her nails biting into the soft flesh of her palms. Hawke turned her face away from the door, her mother's last words a whispering caress against the sensitive tissue of her ears.

"_I've always been proud of you, my darling. D-on't cry for me; live your life….b-be happy…that's all I have ever wanted for you. I-I lo…ve you, Claire. I will see you aft-"_

Leandra had died before she could finish her sentence. They still haunted her years later, surrounding her heart and slowly crushing it. No, she could not deal with that heartbreak tonight. Not after thinking of…Isabela…_**shit**_. Feeling like her world was crashing down around her, Claire made a mad dash for her room. Throwing open the door hastily, she was struck dumb by the figure lounging like a contented Mabari on her duvet. In her misery, the warrior had failed to see the light on behind her closed door. So frantic was she in her movements, she had had no time to prepare, and the swordswoman was now paying the price. "There you are, sweet thing. I have literally been waiting _hours _here for you. I even had to resort to reading this cheesy romance novel. I mean seriously; did you even read the slipcover? Why Bryn would stay with August when she clearly has better sex with Ren I'll never know. He's only dueling with half a deck!"

Hawke was dumbfounded. How in the hell… Isabela was right there! Right in front of her, just like old times! Hawke had to resist the urge to rub her eyes or pinch herself to see if she was asleep. Surely she must be dreaming; no way would the pirate be here. She was miles away on her ship, whoring and drinking and not missing the lovesick warrior one bit. "Hellooo? Hawke? Wow, I think I broke you…I knew you'd be in a tizzy when you saw me here, but I always thought if I'd make you speechless, it would be during other, more pleasurable activities." Isabela sat up, stretching her mocha-stained skin, the sinewy muscles smoothly flexing underneath the surface. Her cinnamon eyes were full of mischievous intent as she gazed up through her thick eyelashes at the stupefied woman. "Damn it all Hawke; say something!" Claire snapped out of her reverie, stepping back a step. "'Bela? I-is it really you?" "Do I look like the average Kirkwall citizen? The answer you are looking for is no." "But, you left. When you walked away…I-I thought you'd not come back." Cocky smirk firmly in place, the pure-bred Rivaini stood to her feet, sashaying her way to the sexy warrior. She let her palm rest against the firm chest, feeling the heart thumping wildly right underneath. The warmth from her palm soaked through the blue tunic; it seared Hawke like dragon's flame.

The hand slowly trailed a path downwards, feeling the taut muscles jump and twitch. Isabela's smile made her look like a predator; Claire certainly felt like prey. "Mmmm, how I've missed you sweet thing. It's been _ages_ since I had a decent lay. I never knew how hard it would be to find a man who knew how to use their rudder, and the women weren't much better. They were all emotional and clingy; makes me shudder just to think of it." Hawke flinched at the mention of Isabela's other conquests. Her stomach churned and her heart felt like the crack Isabela had left reopened. Isabela winked coquettishly, moving her face closer to the strong warrior. Hawke gazed into caramel pools glistening with lustful intent. "How about you give me a warm welcome, Champion? I always wanted to bed a hero…looks like I got my Feastday wish." The pirate leaned in, puckering her full lips. Hawke yearned to once again feel the blissful touch of the magnificent flesh, but she just couldn't. Not when her hurt was fresh and her love blackened by all that Isabela did. Claire turned her head, the lips caressing her cheek instead. Isabela pulled back, puzzled. A dark eyebrow jutted out; the woman had never spurned her advances. It was a new, surprising element and the pirate was not sure how to take it. She took a good look at the woman standing across from her. Three years was a good while; Hawke was the same, and yet different as well. She was a good inch taller, with more muscle definition on her biceps and abdomen. She had also loped off her formally long, luxurious mane of dark silk. Now, instead, she had short dark strands that fell into her unusual blue eyes, giving her a dangerously seductive appearance.

Her personality seemed to be the biggest difference, however. The happy go lucky joker seemed to have disappeared; Isabela had seen the first stages of the transformation with the eldest Amell woman had died, stealing most of the humor from Hawke. It seemed the passage of time had not resurrected that part of her. "I guess I deserved that, although I am surprised. The woman I remember could not take her hands off me." "Well I am not the same woman you remember." Strong arms crossed around her chest, shielding her from the pirate. A couple more steps away were taken. Isabela frowned. "I know I was gone for a time, but you don't have to move so far away like I have a disease or something." Incensed, frigid blue eyes locked onto the pirate at those words. A harsh bark of laughter slithered out of her throat, spattering against the air. "You carrying a disease is the least of my problems, although it is a likely possibility. No, I have no wish to touch you or be too near your presence." That got Isabela's attention. "What? Why? Look Hawke, I am sorry about taking over and all, but it needed to be done! The Qunari and Castillon were following me; I was in danger! Everyone was in danger, so I left. Besides, the absence apart did us good. Makes the heart grow fonder, as the old saying goes." "Well I did not get the memo because a fond heart is not what I received. All I have felt these last few years is pain and a shattered heart. I would have done anything for you! Hell, I practically handed my heart on a silver platter, and you rejected it like it was nothing!"

Claire was yelling at this point, her emotions finally boiling over. Her face was flushed with the heat of her anger, and the look of sheer pain swimming in her blue depths rocked Isabela to her core. She swallowed painfully, a lump the size of her ego making words hard to say. She nervously wrung her hands, switching her weight to the other foot. "Hawke…I told you when we started sleeping together that I did not do emotions; you knew that. I asked if you were fine with that and you agreed. It was just supposed to be sex; blow off steam after a mission. I warned you…I _warned_ you…" Claire felt a suspicious heat buildup behind her eyes, signaling the arrival of tears. She blinked, turning around. She'd be damned if she let the other woman see her cry. _Not again…not after Leandra; not after she left_. "You're right; you did tell me you did not do feelings. I knew; I knew love was not on your list of 'things to accomplish.' But…I had hoped. I let my personal feelings cloud my judgment. I envisioned things, scenarios, that weren't there and would never be. I told myself sleeping with you would be fine, that I could handle just getting a piece of you instead of the entire thing. But, as years went on, I could not be content with that any longer. I need…needed…more from you. I could not be happy with occasional sex and a smattering of banters laced with sexual undertones. It was sufficient for a while but…I can't. I'm not strong enough to continue enduring this, 'Bela. If you don't feel the same as I, that's fine. But don't continue to dangle yourself in front of me, when all I want to do is hold you and never let go."

Twin tears fell in rivulets down the hero's face, physical evidence of her anguish. For the first time in three years, guilt sliced through the pirate. To see what she had reduced the famous Champion to was like a slap to the face; she would know, she had felt plenty. She felt trapped; either she said she did not feel anything for Hawke and risk the chance of losing her completely, or…she admit she loved the woman, and lay herself bare for the first time ever. Isabela hated feeling or showing vulnerability, and telling Hawke of her true feelings was the most exposed she could be. Confliction settled deep within her heart, suffocating the pirate. The Rivaini born had the odd feeling of being claustrophobic; the metaphorical walls were closing down around her. "H-hawke, you cannot know what you ask of me." Those accursed blue eyes seared into her flesh, baring the warrior's soul to the cinnamon pools of the other. "I only ask what I have deserved the answer to for years. I cannot go on like this any longer, Isabela. I love you, Maker help me but I do. I long for you with every fiber of my being; I ache for your touch only. You have ruined me for all others; moving on and forgetting you is impossible, unless you tell me you don't love me." Isabela opened her mouth, before closing it. She felt like a fish out of water, unable to breath but not able to flee back in the comforting waters below. She had the power to make or break Hawke, and it weighed heavily upon her shoulders. They slumped as she inhaled. "You-you know I've never really done the whole love thing, right? I was married and you see how that turned out. I'm not the type of person that love tarries with. I'm just a pirate, lowly and promiscuous. You…you're a protector of both spirits and body. How could you ever even think of loving me?"

"I quit questioning it long ago. You think you are just any other girl, that you are an everyday, run-of-the-mill slut? No; I have seen the true you, the one you hide behind the bandana and bravado. You know what I think? I think you do love me; that you feel exactly as I. But, you are too afraid of hurting me to actually consider a real relationship." Hawke moved forward, steel in her eyes. "I know you feel it too; you have to. Why else did you come back?" "Maybe I was just missing the Blooming Rose, ever think of that?" Hawke seemed to deflate a little. "You are trying to tell me you did not miss me, not even a tiny bit?" Isabela awkwardly tousled her hair, looking more nervous than she ever had before. "Well…I-I did not say that…." Isabela jumped as Hawke growled in frustration. She grasped her hair in her hands, tugging the short dark strands. "Dammit 'Bela! I am done with these mind games! You say you can't, won't, commit and yet you give me reason to hope for something that is not there! Well I am through with waiting. If you cannot be honest with me and admit whether you like me or not, then just…just go. My heart cannot take anymore punishment. I have lost far too much already; it would kill me to lose something I thought was precious." The pirate knew it was now or never; the champion would not wait for her any longer. Did she follow her mind…or follow her heart? Isabela took a deep breath, preparing herself to the scariest answer that had ever passed her lips.

"I-I love you, Hawke. I did not want to ever fall for someone, but I could not help but to fall for you. I know I haven't been the best person, and I hurt you so deeply…but , can you forgive me?" There. She had laid her heart, her very essence, on the line. Now, to feel the sting of reject-oh. Well, either Hawke's lips on hers meant she got the seal of forgiveness, or this was the best rejection she had ever gotten. Tapered fingers tangled in the tousled hair of her favorite sword-slinger, moaning low in her throat as that wicked tongue curled about her own. Ale coated the champion's tongue, and the pirate felt like she was getting drunk on the woman herself. Those dexterous little digits of hers played along the clothed back of Kirkwall's finest, gaining a little whimper of appreciation that Isabela catalogued as a win. They kissed for a couple more minutes before breaking apart, staring at each other. "You've no idea how long I have wanted to heart that…" The warrior whispered, eyes sparkling. "As long as I have wanted to say it." Claire's face was a mixture of longing, surprise, and most of all love. She cradled her pirate's face gently, just looking at her with the softest expression Isabela had ever seen. Their lips were mere centimeters apart, shared breaths mingling together to create the most potent scent. It had only been a moment or two, but Claire yearned for the mouth of her lover. Just as she was about to close the distance once again, Isabela swooped in and stole pink lips, caressing the plump tissue with her tongue before diving into the encompassing warmth of her mouth.

The dark-skinned Rivaini slowly led the warrior backwards until her knees bumped against the bed. Isabela helped her descent with a little push, watching with hooded eyes as she bounced on the bed. Her daggers were seductively slid off the belt around her waist, falling to the floor with an audible thump that echoed the one that came from Hawke's throat. She watched with apt interest as each article of clothing fell off the beauty before her. It had been too long; far too long. Her libido raged inside her, begging to just grab the woman and have her way with her. But, the romantic, lovesick side of her wanted this overdue coupling to be sweet and passionate. So, she curbed her impatience and instead just enjoyed the view. At last, the pirate stood before her as naked as the days she was born. Teasingly, she crawled onto the bed, moving until she hovered over lover. Hawke admired the muscle tone of her partner's arms; the result of years of piracy and dueling. "Like what you see, Champion?" The teasing lilt of her accent drew a smile from the woman in question. "I always have; you're beautiful, 'Bela. I've missed you so…" She leaned up, taking the pirate's mouth for her own. Isabela let her take over willingly, relaxing her guard and lowering herself almost on top of Hawke. Claire, sensing the lack of resistance, exploded into action. Isabela felt the air whoosh passed her, blinking as she felt the cool sheets against the smooth skin of her back. "Well, you don't waste time do you?" Claire laughed huskily. "When you are involved, and naked? Of course not." A somber look passed over her face, blue seeping into her bones. "I need to have you, 'Bela. Let me make love to you first, please?" Even though she really wanted to prove her affections to the fighter, Isabela knew Hawke needed this. Hell, they both did. She relaxed even further, submissively spreading herself out. "Yes….forever and always." One more brief but meaningful smile was shared, before Hawke preceded to physically show her devotion to the woman, losing themselves in the depths of their shared feelings.


End file.
